Lemonade From Lemons
by SilverPrl
Summary: Everyone copes with unfortunate situations in their own unique way. While a little strange, he didn't think making up an imaginary friend was the worst thing that could have happened. He could have gone insane. Then again...


**Disclaimer: Bleach is not a product of my simple mind. **

**Warnings: Language, possible lemon in future chapters, and time skips.**

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It was so cold. 25 degrees is what he recalled seeing broadcasted on one of the televisions he and his mother had passed on the way to their current place of rest. He was so cold, the thin, dirty blankets his mother wrapped him in doing little to warm his small, frail body. His teeth chattered loudly and rapidly, the small boy fearing that they may begin to chip and fall away if he could not get it under control. In what little amount of light the moon supplied under the overpass of a mostly empty canal which provided him and his mother shelter, the boy could see his breath puffing out in front of him, the pale fog quickly being wiped away by the slow winters breeze.

The boy shifted to his side, pulling his knees to his chest and tucking his hands up under his chin. He sighed at the small amount of warmth the position awarded him. The ground he lay upon was in no way comfortable and he would most likely wake in the morning with a severe crick in his neck but he was used to it by then. He and his mother had been living like this for a little over two months, the pair having lost their home for reasons he didn't quite understand. All he knew was that he used to have a warm bed to sleep in at night, he used to play with toys and watch cartoons, he used to have hot meals prepared for him every night, and then one day his mother had come home with the gravest of expressions on he face. She, in the gentlest way possible, told her son that they would have to leave their home for a while. She told him not to worry. She told him it wouldn't be for long. She reassured him they were going to be okay. She packed up their most important belongings, allowing him to choose his favorite toys to bring along, and they walked to a park they would call home for the next month and a half.

For the first couple of days, the young boy looked upon their situation in a way only a child could. It was fun. It was an adventure. It reminded him of stories his mother told him about how she and her siblings used to do something called camping every summer. He'd always wanted to go camping and so with bright eyes and childish wonder he'd explored the park by day and slept upon unforgivingly hard benches by night without complaint. The novelty wore off quickly though and the severity of their situation started to sink in. Still, he did not comprehend why they couldn't just go back home. He didn't get what it meant not to be able to afford it. He did not grasp the concept of money nor it's value. Up until then he wanted and he got.

He'd cried his eyes out for days, especially when their food supply started running short and his mother began leaving him alone for long periods of time. He would stay hidden in the restrooms of the park, sitting in one of the stalls with the door locked for hours with just a white plush cat he called Pantera keeping him company. It was all he had left after his mom took everything they could part with away. He didn't mind much though because that very same day his mother had brought him a happy meal from McDonalds. He almost cried when he shoved that first fist full of crispy fries into his mouth and savored all of their salty goodness. He swore nothing had ever tasted so delicious.

That was about two weeks ago and he hadn't had a decent meal since then. He was starving, his stomach not even bothering to make itself known anymore, which he was wholly appreciative of. The pain he'd been feeling just days ago had been so unbearable he'd taken to eating grass just to curve it.

Staring out ahead almost unblinkingly the young boy watched as a crumpled up bag of rubbish rolled by aided by the wind and he was sorely tempted to reach out and check it for crumbs but he knew that the effort would be fruitless and he was not willing to sacrifice any of the minute amount of warmth he'd obtained for it. Wondering if his mother would be back that night the boy allowed his dulled blue eyes to slide shut, his fatigued, weakened body quickly shutting down and launching him into a restless sleep.

The sound of the thin plastic mat he slept upon crinkling woke the small boy from his dreamless slumber, pale eyelids decorated with sky blue eyelashes giving way to a pair of tired eyes. His heart rate picked up, the boys tired mind recalling the close call he had with a a man who tried to abduct him and would have succeeded in doing so if he hadn't kicked and screamed the way he had and startled the guy into dropping him and fleeing before he could be caught. He still hadn't told his mom about about it. She had enough to worry about as it was.

"Grimmjow, it's mama."

Her voice sounded rougher than it had that morning, wavering and cracking under the strain of her using it. She had probably been out begging all day. A small, frail hand threaded its way through his head of blue hair in a gesture that was completely comforting despite the chill he could feel on his scalp from the limb.

"You hungry punkin? I have some food here," there was a pause as Grimmjow began to sluggishly roll over, two pairs of matching blue eyes meeting. "it's not much, but it's something." A meek smile formed on her thin, pale lips, her arm extending to offer a cinnamon bun still wrapped in plastic to her beloved son. She fought back tears of guilt and regret as his face lit up and his hand quickly shot out to grab the sweet chunk of bread. He hastily tore the wrapping off with his teeth inhaling half of the food item in one go. As he chewed his mouthful of bread with some difficulty he looked his mother over more closely.

She looked terrible. Dark bags had formed under her eyes, her cheeks that were once rosy were now pallid and sunken in, and her clothes looked like they were wearing her, her body was so malnourished. He knew he probably didn't look much better at the moment though.

With his mouth mostly clear of the cinamon roll, Grimmjow brought the remainder of the bun up to his mothers lips and looked at her expectantly.

"Eat mommy."

His mother shook her head solemnly and patted him on his head reassuringly.

"I'm fine sweety, go ahead and finish it." she said, only to be startled when her blue haired son swatted her hand away looking completely affronted.

"You have to eat mommy! You have to eat and get strong so we can have a house again! Y-you have to!" he cried out, his small hand shaking with the effort of holding it out so long. With a pained look on her face and eyes glistening with tears his mother took the rest of the bun, her heart breaking at the look of happiness that shown on her baby boys face. She was so proud and grateful for the amount of strength within her son who was just a toddler. A thumb cold to the touch pressed itself under her eye and wiped away a stray tear that had begun tracking down her dirt covered face.

"Don't cry ma, we're gonna be okay, remember?"

With a nod of her head Grimmjow's mother finished off the sticky, sweet roll, and beckoned her beautiful boy into her arms. He gladly obliged and together they hunkered down and slept through the coldness of the night, basking in each others warmth.

The next morning Grimmjow woke up with his head cradled against his mothers arm, feeling much stronger than he had the night before. He sat up, rubbing his bleary eyes with the backs of his hands and cautiously rotated his head of blue hair. Relief washed over him when the action caused him no pain. The small boy smiled down at his mother knowing it was because of her he wouldn't have to go another day turning his whole body every time he wanted to turn his head.

Standing up Grimmjow made his way out of the shade the overpass provided him and his mother and into the early morning sunlight, stepping over or around the small puddles of water placed randomly around the canal. His eyes squinted shut as the already bright light shone on his face, his body shivering lightly as the warmth immediately seeped into his awaiting skin. Giggling at the sensation, Grimmjow kicked at a small pebble sitting innocently at his feet and watched as it skittered across the cement of the canal before plopping into a puddle of water.

Looking up from the cloudy pooling of liquid the rock sank into, the blue haired boy frowned, his eyes still burning a bit at the suns bright light. They were back again, same time as always. During his time living on the streets with his mother Grimmjow found out a couple of things about himself that he hadn't known before. One of those things was that he hated birds. They were greedy, crumb-snatching little devils dressed in admittedly pretty feathers that the young boy longed to rip out of their bodies one by one.

He didn't really understand why but throughout the day many different species of birds would land to bathe and drink from the dirty water congregated in the puddles that had yet to evaporate. One day while his mother had been feeling under weather, so much so that she was forced to stay with Grimmjow in the canal for the day, she had taught him the names of each kind of bird that landed that day. There were Mourning Doves and Collard Doves, Ducks, Mockingbirds, Sparrows, Great Tailed Grackles, Blackbirds, and Pigeons. He found them all annoying but there was one species that he hated above all the others.

Sitting at a larger puddle of water a scant few feet from the one Grimmjow had sent the pebble into was a large group of Gulls. Seagulls that is. He had no clue what such a species of birds who's name suggested they hang around the ocean were doing there in the first place but he wished with all of his heart that they'd buzz off back to where they came from. His mother had told him that people liked to refer to Pigeons as the rats of the sky but he honestly thought that phrase was much more befitting of the grouping of terrors milling about the canal at the moment.

He'd quickly learned that if he wanted to keep any of the meals he may receive during the day he'd have to hide away under the overpass and wolf it down in secret, for if just one of those scavengers peeped him with food they'd all come swarming over. It reminded him of a scene from one of his favorite movies "Finding Nemo" wherein the two fish desperately searching for young Nemo came across a large grouping of seagulls who proceeded to swarm with snapping beaks and beating wings while exclaiming "mine!" It had been funny before he was actually forced to experience it himself. He liked to think that it was the worst experience of his life and that was saying something considering his current living conditions. His mother told him that normally it wouldn't be so bad but they seemed to be becoming more and more ravenous as the days went by and Grimmjow was simply much to small to fend them off on his own. He'd been terrified of the things for days afterword until he'd realized they didn't much care about his presence unless he had food. Well that just peeved the small blue haired boy and led to his daily morning routine.

With eyes sparkling and narrowing with mischief, Grimmjow took off, screeching like a maniac with his arms flailing rapid above his head, towards the birds sitting at the body of water. They each turned their smooth white feathered heads to look at him, seemingly trying to determine if he was a threat or not. Regardless, the loud stomping of his feet paired with his wailing proved too much for the birds, as per usual, the whole group seeming to lift off at the same moment only to flock a short distance away where they landed again.

Panting with the exertion that once upon a time wouldn't have even made the boy break a sweat, Grimmjow glared at the birds daring them to try and come back to their temporary watering hole.

A low amused giggle had the boy turning his attention to his right, his blue eyes focusing on the figure sitting on the diagonally sloped wall of the canal. His already fierce blue glare intensified as he balled his bony little hands into fists and stomped his way over to the entertained boy sitting with his legs crossed at his ankles, his upper body's weight rested on hands that were laying palm-down against the ground behind him.

Grimmjow plopped down next to the kid with a grunt, his thin arms crossing over his chest defensively when the boys small frame continued to shake with mirth.

"It's not funny!" the blue eyed child snapped, his bottom lip poking out as he pouted at the reoccurring event between himself and his companion. The little turd laughed at him and his failed attempts to evict the obnoxious birds from the area everyday, seeming to only be further amused when the blue haired boy would come and seethe next to him.

"Gomen Grimm, but will you never learn?" the smooth voice of his friend asked, his head shaking back and forth disbelievingly.

"Yeah yeah, they can fly- I can't," Grimmjow grumbled out before turning his nose up towards the sky. "that ain't never gonna stop me from trying though." he scoffed, his eyes cornering to pin the other with a stare.

The boy replied with a quiet "I know" his eyes turned up toward the sky, a wistful expression on his young features. Grimmjow took his friend's distracted state to look over his somewhat smaller frame. No matter how many days passed, the child's mere presence still amazed the blue eyed boy. His existence helped Grimmjow realize another thing about himself that he hadn't know before. He had a _killer_ imagination. He was aware that kids his age always had the most outlandish thoughts and creative streaks but he was almost positive no other boy or girl his age could conjure up a companion for themselves that was just as complex as a real living human being. From the boy's head of bright, spiky, orange hair, to his twin brown hued eyes, to the dirt and grass stained karate gi covering his body, and his introverted personality; Grimmjow had created it all. At least, he was pretty sure he did. What other explanation could there be for the sudden appearance of the boy who had quickly become Grimmjow's only friend when he needed it most.

**Flashback**

_It was the middle of the day and Grimmjow was drawing on the walls of the canal he and his mother had moved to a couple of days prior with a piece of white chalk his mother gave him. Finishing up the crooked smile on his overly large and borderline abstract drawing of Pantera, the boy let the chalk drop to the ground, dusting the residue from the limestone off onto his pants. He was so bored and desperately wished they could go back to the park where he could at least play with other children throughout the day. There was nary a chance that that would happen though, his mother having informed to him that it wasn't safe for him to be left there by himself anymore. She tried to explain that more people in their situation were starting to show up and although he didn't understand why that was a bad thing he trusted his mom's decision. So here he was, bored and alone with only the echos from the empty canal to keep him company. _

_Sighing Grimmjow mentally prepared himself for another day of pointless meandering and long staring contests with random objects. He had just sat himself down by a patch of grass that had forced it's way between some cracks in the cement of the canal when he nearly had the life frightened out of him by an exclamation of "hey you" that had come from behind him. Turning to level the one who had spoken with his blue gaze he was surprised to see a mere little boy standing there in karate gear, his hair illuminated to look like a mini version of the very thing that lit it up. _

_Two pairs of wide eyes full of excitement, curiosity, and a bit of fear roamed features, Grimmjow unconsciously moving closer to the other boy. _

_"__What are you doing here? I haven't seen you around before." the orange haired boy suddenly spoke up, ill concealed suspicion in his gaze, his body beginning to lean back slightly as if he was getting ready to flee. _

_Grimmjow frowned, not wanting the other to leave. "I'm Grimmjow. Me an' my mommy moved here the other day," he said, not caring to specify exactly when. "Do...do you live near here?" he asked, hoping the boy visited the canal often. He would give anything, even his beloved Pantera, just for a living, breathing friend. _

_The boy didn't say anything for a while -Grimmjow itching to question the kid further- then he was nodding his head and walking towards the blue haired boy. _

_"__Not...not really. I don't have a home, I come here sometimes because..." orange brows furrowed, the small boy coming to a stop in front of Grimmjow. "I don't know actually." he said, sounding a little frustrated._

_"__Do you have any parents?" the blue haired boy queried, looking around as if he would see the boys mom or dad somewhere. The orange head nodded again, his face pulling into a confused expression. _

_"__I don't remember." he stated simply._

_Now just as befuddled as his new companion looked, Grimmjow kicked at the floor, suddenly wondering if the kids parents had died and left him alone. Feeling rather bad for the oranget Grimmjow smiled, asking for his name._

_"__I'm Ichigo." he said, the corner of his mouth lifting in response to Grimmjow's own grin. _

_"__Do you want to be my friend, Ichi?" _

_At the hopeful look on the blue eyes boys face the oranget flushed, looking away and nodding his head abashedly. _

_Far from the shy young man the other seemed to be Grimmjow thrust his fist into the air with an excited and triumphant laugh, his slightly chapped lips parting to invite the boy to play with him. Before he could get any words out though he heard a soft feminine voice calling his name. _

_"__Coming mommy!" Grimmjow shouted, taking off at a sprint and almost forgetting the presence of his new friend. _

_"__Come meet my mom!" The blue haired boy said, grabbing Ichigo by his wrist and tugging the mildly protesting boy toward his mother. When the black haired woman came into sight Grimmjow let go of the other's arm, flinging himself into his mom's awaiting ones._

_"__Hey there punkin, how was your day?" she cooed, happy that her son seemed in good spirits for a change. _

_"__It was good mommy! I made a friend, his name's Ichigo!" he nearly screeched in her ear, the woman frowning slightly at that, he protective mother instincts kicking in._

_"__Oh, where is he, hon'? I'd love to meet him." _

_Her son wormed his way out of her arms, lifting his own thinner one to point at a spot a little ways behind himself that to her eyes was completely void of life._

_"__C'mere Ichi, this is my mom!" _

_Raising one black eyebrow the woman watched as her son's head seemed to turn slowly as if he was following somethings progression forward. _

_"__This is my friend mom, he has orange hair. It's neat innit?" her boy giggled reaching an arm out and waving his hand around as if he was mussing up somone's hair. Fighting back the urge to laugh, Grimmjow's mother got down on her knees and put her hands on her son's shoulders._

_"__Sorry Grimmjow, but I don't see anyone there." she said, watching her sons face as it twisted in confusion and his eyes began switching back and forth between the empty spot next to him and his mother._

_"__What do you mean, he's right there," the blunet explained jerking his thumb to the space beside him. "Say something Ichi." _

_There was a pause but then Grimmjow was looking at his mother expectantly, his brows pulling upward when she gave no signs she heard his friend speak. Deciding to help her son make sense of the situation she smiled softly, gesturing to the place Grimmjow indicated Ichigo's presence in. _

_"__I think you've got yourself an imaginary friend, Grimm." _

_"__An imaginary friend?" He parroted, obviously not understanding._

_"__That means that you made a special friend that only you can see, hear, and talk to, baby." she informed softly, watching as Grimmjow's eyes light up with excitement._

_"__Cool!" he shouted turning toward his 'friend' and continuing to babble his exhilaration at the prospect of having such a friend. Shaking her head in amusement, Grimmjow's mother turned to retrieve the food she'd scrounged for her son from her bag. She didn't see any harm in him having an imaginary friend, especially not at his age, and if it was making him that happy she wouldn't try to interfere. _

_She wanted the best for her only child after all. _

**Flashback End**

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**AN: Hi there readers! It's been a while since I've posted anything, I know, I'll get to updating my other stories soon. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and will enjoy the ones to come. Thanks for reading and if you have any questions, comments, or reviews I'd love to read them. On another note, I feel like my brain is trying to exit my eyes, ears, and nose all at the same time. Math is one hell of a class. **


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